Idea of Rome, Idea of Europe103
CHAPTER FIVE
Idea of Rome, Idea of Europe
John Nicols, History and Classics
Yes, indeed I have finally reached the very capital of the world! Had Iseen her fifteen years earlier and in good company, led by a truly well-
versed companion, I would have counted myself happy. Should Ihowever see and visit her with my own eyes alone, it is a good thing thatthis joy has been granted me so late. . . .
All the dreams of my youth I now see alive; the first etchings [ofmonuments] that I remember (my father placed views of Rome on ourfoyer), I now see in full reality; and everything that was known to me forso long from paintings, drawings, etchings, and woodcuts, in plaster andin cork, all now stand assembled before me wherever I go. In this newworld I find a familiarity; it is everything that I imagined, and at thesame time everything is new.
—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, November 1, 1786
The patent excitement in Goethe's description of his arrival in Rome is re-
flected again and again by writers not only of his generation but also of thosewho came before and arrived after he did—among them, Gibbon and Dick-
ens, Chateaubriand and Madame de Staël. What was it about the city andthe idea of Rome that made it so attractive to Europeans? Why did the Ro-
man Empire persist in theory and in practice long after it ceased to be a vi-
able political structure? What was it about Rome that inspired intellectualsand artists of the Renaissance and the early modem periods of European his-
tory? Why is it that intellectuals and intellectual "wannabes" traveled toItaly, Rome, and Pompeii?
Figure 5.1. Roman Forum viewed from the Palatine hill, with the Curia, seat of the Ro-
man Senate, in the center. Source: Personal photograph by G. Sheridan, April 1984.
Let me approach these questions somewhat indirectly.
Who does not long to live in an era of peace and prosperity? Who doesnot prefer to live under a regime that sponsors high cultural achievement butdoes not lose sight of the needs and interests of the vulnerable? The litera-
ture of early modern and modern Europe is saturated with perspectives onthis subject. From Thomas More to Karl Marx, from Thomas Jefferson toJohn Kennedy, the literati and glitterati have expounded on just how such astate might be achieved. Our expectations of "things to come" are, however,
very much tempered and defined by our collective memory of the past.
Sometimes the "memory" is expressed in terms of hard lessons learned, butno less potent and perhaps even more pervasive is the sense of nostalgia fora past long since "lost" but nonetheless still full of grandeur—a past ever pres-
ent, even if not consciously admitted.
Can anyone not be moved by the idea of three centuries of peace in Eu-
rope? By the massive public works projects that brought clean water (and re-
moved waste water) from cities? By a plethora of theaters and civic rituals?
By a legal system that posited many of the rights we consider to be "self-
evident"? Who could not appreciate the achievements of such a well-orderedstate? And who cannot stop and wonder about an age when Europeans couldspeak to one another in one or two languages?
102
104John NicolsIdea of Rome, Idea of Europe '4•' 105
The Roman Empire provided these blessings and, despite its undeniabledefects and eventual collapse, it succeeded in constructing a transcendentidea of what a European civilization could be. It is true enough that Romanimperial civilization had its defects. We may not feel comfortable with the Ro-
man notions of status or with its toleration of slavery, to name but a few. Wemay also recognize that the culture created was not as "original" as that ofclassical Athens or that the elite especially enjoyed the benefits. Even so, andin respect to these two items, we should bear in mind that ancient slavery wasnot "racial" and, as archaeologists have long recognized, the standards of eliteculture permeated the social pyramid to a depth and breadth not found againuntil the nineteenth century. The focus of this chapter is not, therefore, a de-
fense of Roman civilization but rather an examination of the enduring at-
traction of Rome as an idea or conceptual model. This chapter seeks to ex-
plain how that model has affected the formulation of "the idea of Europe."
Machiavelli noted that Italy is a merely geographical concept, an obser-
vation that is also true for Europe. What he meant, of course, was that Re-
naissance Italy did not have any "unity" beyond its contiguous geography. So,
too, one might argue that Europe does not have historically any "unity" be-
yond its contiguous geography. Yet, if one seeks a model of a unified Euro-
pean entity, one with a distinct culture and one capable of transcending thelimits of language, religion, and ethnicity, the most attractive model is thatof Rome. Consider the alternatives. Does the achievement of Christianity inthe early Middle Ages inspire confidence? Is the Holy Roman Empire moreappealing? And what about Napoleonic Europe? Certainly each has its ad-
mirable qualities. In terms of culture, the Christian church of the MiddleAges played a central and supportive role, and the culture of Napoleonic Eu-
rope was dynamic and formative. Yet neither age can be described as "peace-
ful." Indeed, all three drew heavily on the Roman model in theory and inpractice, in law and in the arts. The model remains powerful, as a relativelyrecent article from the Economist suggests:
What kind of a model does Rome offer?
We need to understand that "Rome" was not just one city on the Tiber butwas also, by the end of the Principate in CE 190, a collection of cities with aremarkably homogenous culture. Indeed, one might describe the Roman Em-
pire as an association of cities and not, as is often suggested in maps, a col-
lection of provinces or "protonational states." This is an important observa-
tion, for it suggests that the Roman model is built around the notions ofurbanization, civilization, and Romanization. In fact, if there was a commonculture in the Roman Empire and if there is one in Europe today, it is essen-
tially urban. This is not simply an elite culture equally enjoying the operas ofVerdi, Wagner, and Bizet in traditional palaces of culture. It is also a commonurban and "popular" culture that unites Europeans in distinctive ways—
through music, soccer, academic exchanges, and travel, to name but a few.
That is, despite differences in language and religion—the customary pointsof division in European politics—there is a broadly based and common Eu-
ropean civic culture that is reminiscent of that of Rome.
Though contemporary European civic culture may not owe its unity to theRoman model directly, discussion of political unity builds dynamically onRoman tradition. Is it possible to create a central and effective European po-
litical authority, one that is capable of winning the consent of the governed,
of generating an allegiance that transcends cultural and linguistic differ-
ences, and of putting to rest historical enmities? Rome offers an example ofwhat could be done in these terms. Both the European Union and Romestrive to achieve unity through the guarantee of peace, the creation of a com-
mon body of law, the elevation of the standards of public life, and the devel-
opment of a culture of tolerance.
Gibbon and his contemporaries had no doubt about where to find inspi-
ration for a new order and the lessons to be learned from Rome's experience.
In The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, the historian speaksemphatically of the achievement of the Roman Empire:
It is easy to see common elements in the Roman and the Carolingian empiresthat might appeal to modern-day builders of Europe. Most obvious is sheer ter-
ritorial expanse. To that may be added the creation of a common legal code,
the issuance of a common currency as a symbol of imperial rule, the buildingof roads linking the empire (or trans-European networks, as they are unsmil-
ingly called in Brussels). And all this is based upon a new, and supposedly last-
ing, peace within the empire—for the Romans, the Pax Romana... Unity, fra-
ternity, creativity. The notion that unity and peace in Europe are two sides ofthe same coin is an article of faith for modern pro-Europeans.1
The two Antonines (for it is of them that we are now speaking) governed theRoman world forty-two years, with the same invariable spirit of wisdom andvirtue. . . . Their united reigns are possibly the only period of history in which thehappiness of a great people was the sole object of government.2
And,
If a man were called to fix the period in the history of the world, during whichthe condition of the human race was most happy and prosperous, he would, without
106 qe. John NicolsIdea of Rome, Idea of Europe107
hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Domitian to the acces-
sion of Commodus (AD 96-193)
The same admiration is found in his discussion of the reasons for the fallof the Roman Empire:
It was scarcely possible that the eyes of contemporaries should discover in thepublic felicity the latent causes of decay and corruption. This long peace, andthe uniform government of the Romans, introduced a slow and secret poisoninto the vitals of the empire.4
As did others of this generation, Gibbon finds the roots of this felicity inconstitutionality and citizenship. He writes,
A martial nobility and stubborn commons, possessed of arms, tenacious ofproperty, and collected into constitutional assemblies, form the only balancecapable of preserving a free constitution against enterprises of an aspiringprinces
These perceptions of the Romans mutually reinforced the art, popular andelite, of the same generation of Europeans. Among many others who lookedto Rome for inspiration, the French painters of the early nineteenth century,
David and Poussin particularly, delight in representing this "free constitu-
tion," or a martial nobility and stubborn commons. Celebrated examples in-
clude Jacques-Louis David and Nicolas Poussin, on the rape of the Sabines;
and David's Brutus (1789), Oath of the Tennis Court, and Oath of the Horatii(1784). As Goethe himself indicates, an array of artistic works—such as theengravings of Piranesi—decorated the homes of the educated classes, cele-
brating the Roman past in a highly romantic way.
In the culture of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries in Eu-
rope, the Roman model was all pervasive. John Keegan opens his book onWorld War I by noting the common culture and shared values of the edu-
cated classes of Europe:
Europe's educated classes held much of its culture in common, particularlythrough an appreciation for the art of the Italian and Flemish renaissance, .. .
for the architecture of the Middle Ages and the classical revival. Despite agrowing resistance to the primacy of Greek and Latin in the high schools,
Homer,Thucydides, Caesar and Livy were set-books in all of them [Central andEntente powers] and the study of the classics remained universal. . . . The clas-
sical foundations stood, perhaps more securely than the Christian. . . . The com-
monality of outlook preserved something recognisable as a single European culture .°
This common elite culture had undeniable downsides. As Keegan inti-
mates, the most glaring was that it did little to prevent a cataclysmic war oreven to ameliorate war's horrors. Nor did fluency in Latin, imitation of Li-
vian and Ciceronian style, and study of the Roman constitution and lawprovide guidance on means to avoid the conflagration in the first place. Thecelebration of Roman republican virtue had served the interests of thoseseeking to put an end to absolutism but lent itself equally well to the newsense of intense nationalism and military ardor that burst forth in August1914. Indeed, this situation represents the great European paradox: Why didthe common culture of Europe, both high and low, fail in World War I? Whydid the cultivated concern for rationality and diplomacy give way to narrowand nationalistic goals? And, more poignant, how did it come about thattwentieth-century Germany—that self-proclaimed paragon of philosophy,
education, reason, and law—perpetrated the Shoah? Here we are at the coreof our dilemma: Europeans have an almost mystic faith that the pursuit ofhigh culture, secular culture, is the path to human fulfillment, yet the verysuccess of high culture has regularly been turned on its head and has pro-
duced disasters.
Before we venture too far down this depressing path, let us consider morefully what it was that nineteenth-century Europeans found attractive aboutRome. It was during this century that European cities shed their medievalfeatures and began to take on the form of the modern urban center. The ex-
ample of Rome, not the city itself as much as the many Roman citiesthroughout the Mediterranean, offered examples of effective planning: regu-
lar streets, a clear water supply, an admirable level of public sanitation in asecular context. Here again Gibbon is the guide:
Among the innumerable monuments of architecture constructed by the Ro-
mans, how many have escaped the notice of history, how few have resisted theravages of time and barbarism! And yet even the majestic ruins that are stillscattered over Italy and the provinces, would be sufficient to prove that thosecountries were once the seat of a polite and powerful empire. Their greatnessalone, or their beauty, might deserve our attention; but they are renderedmore interesting by two important circumstances, which connect the agree-
able history of the arts with the more useful history of human matters. Manyof these works were erected at private expense, and almost all were intendedfor public benefit.?
Surely the ruins invoked a feeling of nostalgia in nineteenth-centuryEuropeans, a yearning to acquire again the elements of a past that, though inruins, could nonetheless evoke standards higher than those witnessed by
their own generation. That this nostalgia was focused on architecture is im-
mediately apparent in the wildly popular reprinting of Piranesi's engravings,
such as those mentioned by Goethe in the opening quotation (figure 5.2).
These and other buildings provided inspiration for a set of important Eu-
ropean national monuments, including the Arc de Triomphe as well as theclassical facades of a range of public buildings, opera houses, and museums inEurope and in the United States. At the same time, the discovery and exca-
vation of Pompeii introduced to Europeans a new set of models that inspireda dramatically different sense of sculpture, painting, and interior design. Mypersonal favorite—and everyone will have his or her choice—is David'ssplendid portrait of Madame de Recamier. Her dress, pose, and hair; thechaise lounge, the oil lamp, and the austere background capture splendidlythe nostalgia for the Roman past as well as the aspirations of the "revolu-
tionary" present.
This fascination with the past was not restricted to the visual arts. Cicero'sDe officiis (On moral obligation), emphasizing ethics with a minimal amountof religion, was one of the most widely printed books in all countries of Eu-
rope during the nineteenth century. It was read precisely because it provideda secular basis for morality in a society that was eager to find an alternativeto the ecclesiastical. Roman law was studied intensively, with its value widelyacknowledged in the new Code Civil. The power of this legacy is reflected inNapoleon, Crowned by Time, Writes the Civil Code, painted by Jean BaptisteMauzaisse and exhibited at the Paris Salon of 1833 (figure 5.3). In an allu-
sion to Moses and the Ten Commandments, Napoleon receives a laurelcrown from Jupiter as he puts the final touches on the Code. The attractionof Roman civil law lay in its emphasis on rationality and in its support for thepillars of the new order—the defense of property, rationalism, and citizen-
ship. The adoption of the Code throughout continental Europe representednot only a rejection of the "feudal" past but also the creation of a commonlegal framework for the further development of commerce and trade. More-
over, Roman constitutional law was not only congenial to intellectuals of re-
publican persuasion but could easily be adapted to a new imperial order, of-
fering a model for imperial government. Hence, Napoleon, unwilling to drawon the French royal tradition, represented his own sense of destiny with Ro-
man imperial insignia, such as the laurel wreath crown, chosen for his owncoronation. Even Napoleon III encouraged French cities "to liberate" theirRoman ruins from the detritus of the Middle Ages, as is suggested, for in-
stance, by the "excavations" of the theater at Orange. He himself set themodel by writing a lengthy treatise on Caesar's Gallic Wars.
Figure 5.2. Print by Giovanni Battista Piranesi, from the Vedute di Roma (Views of Rome) series, depicting the Acqua Felice fountain, also known as the Acqua del Mose (1760-1761). Originally built to celebrate the papacy of Sixtus V, the monument includes large sculptures dominated by Old Testament themes: the central figure of Moses and, on the two side bays, Aaron and Joshua. Reproduced from the collection of the Arthur Ross Foundation in Piranesi: Rome Recorded (1989), plate 56.
Figure 5.3. Napoleon, Crowned by Time, Writes the Civil Code. Painting by JeanBaptiste Mauzaisse exhibited at Salon of 1833. Currently located at the Châteaux deMalmaison et Bois-Préau (Rueil-Malmaison, France). Reproduced with the permis-
sion of Reunion des Musées Nationaux and Art Resource (New York).
On a more hopeful note, the possibility of enduring peace, progress, andprosperity clearly appealed to nineteenth-century Europeans as much as itdoes to our contemporaries. The revolutionary and Napoleonic wars hadbeen costly to both the victor and the vanquished. Diplomats sought a bet-
ter model. They thought they found one in the kind of rule described by theRoman historian Tacitus, who was popular among nineteenth-century intel-
lectuals. Tacitus was, of course, skeptical of absolutists; yet, like the new Eu-
ropean elite, he was clearly ready to cooperate when the commonwealthstood to gain. Interest in Tacitus focused not only on his historical work
(an-nales and historiae), both of which gave considerable attention to Gaul andthe Rhine frontier, but also on the essays he composed on Germania andBritain, the Vita Agricolae. Most important for this study is the argument hepresents linking peace, empire, and army. The setting is the theater/assemblyat Trier in Germany. The Treviri, now long Romanized, are debating whether
Idea of Rome, Idea of Europe '4-, 111
to remain in the Roman Empire or to join the Germanic invasion of the em-
pire. In a speech put into the mouth of Petillius Cerialis, a Roman general,
Tacitus explains why the Treviri should remain loyal to Rome:
Gaul always had its petty kingdoms and intestine wars, till you submitted toour authority. We, though so often provoked, have used the right of conquestto burden you only with the cost of maintaining peace. For the tranquility ofnations cannot be preserved without armies; armies cannot exist without pay;
pay cannot be furnished without tribute; all else is common between us. Youoften command our legions. You rule these and other provinces. There is noprivilege, no exclusion (nihil separatum clausumve).8
It is a remarkable insight. Rome had ceased to stand for the city in a narrowsense but had come to include as equals all those once conquered. "No priv-
ilege, no exclusion" were words that could be appropriately inscribed on theportal of the European Parliament.
To those responsible for the construction of nineteenth-century Europeancities, two elements of Roman culture were particularly attractive. Funda-
mental to urban prosperity was the control of water. It was not just that citiesneeded a supply of clean water, but to promote the health of city dwellers, onealso had to remove waste water. Let us be clear on this point. There were veryfew medieval contributions in these areas but an abundance of Roman ones.
Wherever one traveled in southern France, Spain, or Italy, one found the re-
mains of the magnificent aqueducts that had once brought salubrious water tothe cities of the empire. But it was not only these dramatic structures thatmattered. Roman cities were blessed with a well-developed, though not so vis-
ible, sewer system and comfort stations. The construction of such systems inpostrevolutionary Paris was a cause for wonderment and a sign of modernity.
In conclusion, intellectuals of the Enlightenment and Romantic eras inEurope found Rome an attractive "idea."9 Cosmopolitan and secular, rationaland inclusive, a tradition of grandeur but also one that evoked nostalgia andpathos, Rome offered a model of what could be achieved as well as lessons forwhat to avoid. In terms of material culture, the ruins of temples and theaters,
aqueducts and sewers served as reminders of Rome's vibrant urban achieve-
ment. The discovery of Herculaneum and Pompeii and the dissemination ofartifacts and illustrations had a profound effect on the domestic arts, on paint-
ing, and on architecture. To see the monuments and to reflect on the vicissi-
tudes of the human condition engaged the interest of educated classes and en-
couraged them in large numbers to not only travel to Rome and Pompeii butto also decorate their own establishments to reflect this engagement.10
Idea of Rome, Idea of Europe 'Be' 113
112John Nicols
Hand in hand with this interest in the material culture of Rome was thecontinued study of Roman literature and law. The classical tradition as it wasfinalized in the Roman period offered an ethical and legal system that wassecular and rational—qualities that were highly attractive to constitutionalthinkers of the modern period. The debt continues to be acknowledged inthe law faculties of continental universities. Moreover, the idea of Rome of-
fered a vision of enduring peace and material prosperity. The 250 years ofpeace from the battle of Actium (31 BCE) until the crisis of the third cen-
tury (CE 235) represents a unique era in the history of Europe.
The achievements of ancient Rome and the achievements of Europe inthe late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries offered a vision of a prosperous,
tolerant, and humane future. There was a deeply rooted belief that high cul-
ture and the formal study of its roots could provide the structure for great ad-
vances. The failure of this vision—first in the trenches of World War I andthen in the gas chambers of Auschwitz—has served as a valuable corrective.
The study of the past is, as Thucydides notes, useful, but each generationmust internalize for itself its lessons or be condemned to repeat its failures(see "Europe in the Wake of the Shoah," chap. 8). High culture may not bea secure defense against the worst instincts of human nature; nonetheless, de-
spite its limitations, it may be the only one.
9.As European intellectuals moved from the Enlightenment to Romanticism,
their ideas about Rome changed accordingly. Nonetheless, certain ideas about Romeas a model persisted.
10.The most interesting short book on this subject is by Wolf Leppmann, Pompeiiin Fact and Fiction (London: Elek Books, 1968). Leppmann analyzes the "travel liter-
ature" of European intellectuals from the discovery of Herculaneum through thenineteenth century, focusing on changing attitudes of leading Enlightenment andRomantic figures.
Notes
I much appreciate the comments and improvements made by the editors of this vol-
ume. By way of a brief apologia at the beginning, let me acknowledge that I am wellaware of the many profound and subtle differences in outlook, among intellectuals,
across the different periods during which the impact of Rome was felt. My focus is onthe persistence of several ideas about Rome as a model.
1."The History of an Idea," Economist, January 3, 2004, 38.
2.Edward Gibbon, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, abr. ed.,
ed. David Womersley (London: Penguin Books, 2000), 82. Italics added.
3.Gibbon, Decline and Fall, 83. Italics added.
4.Gibbon, Decline and Fall, 62. Italics added.
5.Gibbon, Decline and Fall, 65.
6.John Keegan, The First World War (New York: Knopf, 1998), 15. Italics added.
Chap. 1 of this book lays out the problem in detail.
7.Gibbon, Decline and Fall, 50.
8.Cornelius Tacitus, Complete Works of Tacitus, ed. Moses Hadas and trans. Al-
fred John Church and William Jackson Brodribb (New York: Modem Library,
1942), hist. 4.74.